


All That's Best of Dark and Bright

by dexstarr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Choking, Collars, Community: hp_creatures, Creature Fic, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Femdom, Het, Infidelity, Magic, Pre-Series, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 06:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexstarr/pseuds/dexstarr
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy has been hiding her Fae nature from her husband for years, but when Lucius begins cheating on her after the war, she has had enough.





	All That's Best of Dark and Bright

**Author's Note:**

> _Harry Potter_ is not mine and no profit is made from this work. Written for the LJ community [hp_creatures](http://hp-creatures.livejournal.com/). Event: 2010 Creature Fest.

“Aaaiiiieee!”  
  
A high-pitched squeal caught Narcissa’s ear as she walked past her husband’s study.  
  
She paused and pressed her ear to the door. Normally she would never eavesdrop, but the sound had been too high, surely, to have been Lucius. But who else would be in his private office? It was after midnight — too late for him to be entertaining friends — and men certainly wouldn’t sound like that. Perhaps he was punishing Dobby? That elf had been far too disobedient lately; he was in need of a good beating.  
  
Her curiosity piqued, Narcissa tried to open the door only to find it locked. Her brow furrowed as she pulled her wand from her sleeve, tapped it against the silver doorknob, and said, “ _Alohomora._ ”   
  
The door swung open.  
  
Narcissa breathed in sharply, almost choking in shock, when she saw Lucius  _in flagrante delicto._    
  
The girl braced over her husband’s mahogany desk looked up at the noise, and her mouth dropped open. “Uuhh,” she stuttered; Lucius glanced up from the nude body before him, and his eyes widened when he noticed his wife standing in the doorway.  
  
“Narcissa —” he called, the barest hint of annoyance in his voice.   
  
She shot him an angry, wounded glare before turning and slamming the door behind her. He heard her heels clicking furiously on the stone floor as she hurried away, presumably headed for the sanctuary of their bedroom.   
  
“Lucius?” The girl twisted her head to look at him over her shoulder, a worried expression on her face. “Should you — go to her?”  
  
“Just —” he sighed and then grabbed the girl’s hips, pulling her to him. “Shut up.”   
  


* * *

  
  
He didn’t return to their bedroom until the following night.  
  
“Your clothes are on the bed,” Narcissa said coolly when Lucius entered the room, not looking away from the mirror as she continued to supervise Dobby in curling her hair.   
  
Lucius suppressed a sigh as he walked to the bed; the new Minister had an inordinate fondness for costume parties and tried to hold one for every Ministry of Magic event, whether it made sense to do so or not. At least tonight was Halloween. He just hoped Narcissa hadn’t picked too absurd of a theme for them.   
  
He saw black suit trousers waiting for him on the bed, a lightweight silk pair that would be comfortable in the stuffiness of the ballroom. Lucius picked the trousers up, expecting to find a shirt or jacket underneath, but there was nothing. Except — “Narcissa? What is  _this?_ ”   
  
“Part of your outfit,” she said absently as she hit Dobby for carelessly pulling her hair.  
  
“Just what are we going as?” he asked, examining the object he’d found under the trousers.  
  
“A faerie and her enraptured human lover.”   
  
“I see,” Lucius drawled, trying to hide the small bit of unease starting to develop. He wondered if she had changed their costumes after last night’s … discovery. “Is the collar absolutely necessary, darling?”   
  
“Yes,” she said shortly, turning finally from the mirror to look at him. “Don’t worry — it’s purely ornamental. I wouldn’t presume to control you, Lucius. Now come here, so I can put it on you properly.”  
  
She had definitely changed their costumes after last night.   
  
He petulantly handed her the platinum collar, and she smirked at the sulky set of his face. “It’s only fair,  _darling_. I’ve been the Persephone to your Hades, the Helen to your Paris, the Cleopatra to your Octavian. It’s time for you to take the subservient role,” Narcissa said sweetly.   
  
The thought of being under his wife’s thumb — even for just one night — twisted his stomach, and Lucius almost protested, especially when Narcissa motioned for him to kneel before her. “You’re too tall when you’re standing,” she simpered, looking up at him through her eyelashes. It was too much, and he started to back away, affronted by her attack on his pride. “I wouldn’t,  _darling_ ,” his wife said icily. “It would not be smart of you to anger me even more, especially not tonight. Appearances are everything at these events.”  
  
Because appearances were everything, and because they needed to present the image of a loving couple, Lucius knelt.   
  
A genuine smile lit Narcissa’s face as she moved her husband’s shoulder-length hair out of the way, baring his neck so she could put the collar on him. Lucius expected it to be cold against his skin, but the precious metal was surprisingly warm, and he felt a tingle when she fastened the collar. “What was that?” he asked, wondering if she had tricked him somehow.   
  
“Nothing,” she replied. “I told you it was decorative, Lucius.” She looked him over for a moment, memorizing the image of her husband kneeling before her. “Now, out while I finish dressing; I’ll meet you in the foyer in ten minutes.”   
  
“I’ve seen you —”  
  
“Out,” Narcissa said firmly, and he went. His wife did like her surprises, and he figured tonight would be a good night to indulge her in all she wanted.   
  


* * *

  
  
Lucius looked up when he heard Narcissa coming down the grand staircase, and he did not have to feign appreciation when he saw her finished costume.  
  
She was wearing an emerald silk satin dress that showed off her slender figure marvelously. A diamond and platinum necklace around her neck — he’d given it to her for a birthday or some similar occasion — drew his eyes down to the sharp dip of her neckline, which exposed the swell of her breasts. The silky fabric clung to her upper body and flowed into a short train just below her hips, but the skirt was tight enough that he could see the lines of her legs as she walked down the stairs. A glitter of something metallic above her shoulders caught his eye, but he couldn’t quite make out what it was.   
  
“You look lovely,” Lucius said when his wife reached him, and he truly meant it.   
  
“Thank you,” Narcissa said softly, a smile curving her cranberry-red lips. She turned, presenting her back to him, and Lucius gasped in surprise.  
  
Her back was entirely bare, from her shoulders to the base of her spine; the emerald silk framed the expanse of pale skin beautifully, and Lucius wasn’t sure how the dress stayed on her body.  
  
But it wasn’t the low back of her dress that surprised him.  
  
Narcissa had a pair of  _wings_  attached to her shoulders.  
  
A gauzy, iridescent pair of butterfly wings that were waving slowly as she stood in front of him; Lucius could hear a faint  _whisp, whisp_  as the silver and green wings fluttered back and forth.   
  
“A real faerie has wings, doesn’t she?”   
  
“They — they look so real,” Lucius said, and reached out a tentative hand to touch the wings. He felt tiny, stiff feathers under his fingertips and the wings quivered as he stroked them, running his hand from the forewing to the hindwing. The lustrous wings were enormous on her small frame, stretching from her neck to her knees. They were mostly silver in color, but had patterns of dots and lines here and there in varying shades of green from celadon to jade. “I can’t see how —”  
  
“Oh, they just took a few charms and a little transfiguration work,” Narcissa said lightly and turned again to face him. “Now we had better leave, or we’ll be late for the Minister’s welcoming speech.”  
  
Lucius rolled his eyes; he would be happy to miss  _that_ — Fudge was not a talented speaker. He held his arm out for his wife, but Narcissa ignored it. Instead, she raised her hand to his neck and clipped a fine platinum chain to his collar. “I can’t have my mortal running away from me,” she smirked.  
  
His pleasure at her appearance disappeared instantly at this new indignity. “Narcissa —”   
  
“Don’t try me,  _darling_ ,” she said in the same cold, sarcastic tone she’d used earlier. She pinched a handful of Floo powder from the glass bowl on the mantelpiece and tossed it into the fireplace. “The Minister’s Mansion,” Narcissa stated firmly and tugged on the leash with surprising strength until Lucius reluctantly followed her into the green flames.   
  


* * *

  
  
“Thank you all for coming! Let the ball begin,” Cornelius Fudge said, clapping his pudgy hands together as he finished his speech. A cloud of black bats appeared behind him and glided across the room, perching on the table decorations and hanging from the crystal chandeliers. The carved pumpkins set around the room came to life as the candles inside them lit, and a band began playing spooky, ear-piercing music.   
  
Lucius winced at the juvenileness of it all. Fudge’s Halloween “ball” reminded him more of a Hogwarts feast than a proper ball. How he wished sometimes Millicent Bagnold was still Minister; she, at least, had known how to host a formal event. But then Fudge was easier to bribe than that old woman, so there were some advantages to having such a prat in office.  
  
“Nice costume, Lucius,” someone said behind him, and Lucius turned to see Theodore Nott Sr. arching a blue eyebrow at him. The other man was dressed as Poseidon and had charmed his hair, beard, and skin different shades of blue; he even had a tiny dolphin draped around his neck.   
  
“I see you went all out,” Lucius said dryly.   
  
“It’s not every day a man gets to carry a trident around legally.” Nott nodded toward the three-pronged spear he was holding; the tips of the spikes were sharp, and Lucius remembered the good old days, when Nott had used such implements on their victims. “Besides, I kind of like the loincloth, attracts the witches if you know what I mean.” He glanced at Lucius’s bare chest and said, “I see you do.”   
  
Lucius shrugged his shoulders. “Narcissa,” he said as an explanation, and his wife glared at him out of the corner of her eye. “She always picks the best costumes,” he added hurriedly.   
  
The other man’s eyes focused on Narcissa, taking in the tight fit of her dress and the shimmering wings with a long look, and said, “She certainly does.”   
  
“It’s very nice to see you again, Theodore,” Narcissa said politely. “But Lucius and I need to pay our respects to the Minister.” She rose and pulled on the leash; Nott smirked when Lucius stood as well.   
  
Narcissa tugged him towards Fudge, who was reclining in a throne by the dance floor. Fudge was wearing a white toga with purple trim that didn’t cover enough of his rotund body and had a crown of laurel leaves on his grey head instead of the usual lime-green bowler hat. Lucius sneered at the thought of the inept man as Julius Caesar; trust Fudge to pick one of the greatest military heroes of the ancient wizarding world when he wouldn’t have been fit to be a foot solider in Caesar’s army.   
  
“Hail, Caesar,” Lucius said, hiding the disgust he felt with a fake smile. The Minister’s small eyes lit in pleasure as he saluted Lucius with his right arm. Narcissa offered her hand, and Fudge kissed it in greeting; Lucius’s smile froze on his face when the man’s lips actually touched his wife’s skin.   
  
“What do we have here? A dragonfly?”   
  
“A faerie and her human, Minister,” Narcissa said as she twirled, fluttering her wings for effect. “Everyone always picks a historical or mythical figure; I wanted us to be unique.”   
  
Fudge smiled weakly as he stared at Narcissa’s chest. “Yes, your costumes certainly are very … unique, Mrs Malfoy. That is a lovely set of wings you have there; I wasn’t aware you were so talented with charms.”   
  
Lucius very nearly snorted at the man’s double entendre; he wouldn’t have thought Fudge would have the courage to say such a thing, especially in front of him.   
  
“How very kind of you, Minister.”  
  
They suffered through another few tedious minutes of small talk with Fudge before another couple came to greet the Minister; he was relieved when Narcissa led him away at last.   
  
“Not so bad, is it?” she asked, twitching the leash to pull him to the dance floor.  
  
Lucius scowled and said sullenly, “I don’t want to dance.”   
  
Narcissa wrapped the platinum leash around her hand, shortening the length, and put her right hand on his shoulder. “Too bad,” she whispered in his ear. “You do what I want tonight.” He couldn’t protest — not with other people so close — so he took her left hand and started to guide them around the ballroom, his face still twisted in a polite grimace.   
  
Her wings flickered back and forth with the beat of the music, creating an iridescent halo around them, and he heard people murmuring in admiration, but even that didn’t improve his mood. Normally, Lucius liked being the center of attention, especially at such events, but tonight he wanted nothing more than to go home and take off the damn collar locked around his neck.   
  
Fortunately, the horrible band Fudge had picked ran through their slow song repertoire rather quickly, and he was spared additional torment when they struck up a fast, ear-splitting tune.  
  
Narcissa steered him from the dance floor and headed for their table, where Lucius was determined to sit and sulk until it was time to leave. He was almost to his chair when he had to step sideways to avoid a group of low-flying bats, and as he did, he bumped into someone.   
  
“Sorry,” he muttered and continued walking, but was jerked to a sudden halt when he reached the end of his leash. He looked towards Narcissa, annoyed, and then turned white when he saw what — who — she was staring at.   
  
The girl he’d had in his study last night was looking at him, running her eyes admiringly over his bare chest. “You’re looking hot tonight, Lu. If you can get away later, I’ll be upstairs….” she said and licked her lips suggestively. Lucius glanced at his wife and saw Narcissa was livid. Her wings were flapping so fast they were a silver and green blur, and her eyes were like cold sapphires as she watched the girl walk away, swaying her arse exaggeratedly.   
  
“Let’s go —” Lucius started to say, but Narcissa cut him off.  
  
“Shut up, Lucius. Not another word.” She pulled harshly on the metal chain and Lucius swore he felt the collar tighten around his neck as she hauled him toward a group of her friends.   
  


* * *

  
  
“Narcissa? I can’t find the opening to this,” Lucius said, pointing at the collar around his neck. He wanted the damn thing off  _immediately_  now that they were back at Malfoy Manor.   
  
She paused in brushing her hair and turned to face him. “It won’t come off until I take it off.”   
  
“You said it was ornamental,” he reminded her.   
  
“I lied,” she said in a sickeningly sweet voice.   
  
She couldn’t be serious. “I want it off.  _Now_.” She had better  _not_  be serious.   
  
“No.”   
  
His eyes narrowed in anger. His wife wanted to make him mad? Fine. He’d go spell the damn thing off in his study. And then he’d have a drink — a big one. He needed it after tonight; he’d never been so happy to leave a social event in his life.   
  
Narcissa had dragged him around to group after group of her friends and he’d had to stand and listen while the witches gossiped about the silliest things, from new robe styles to the weather in Paris. Narcissa had treated him like a naughty puppy; she’d even smacked his nose when he’d tried to refuse to follow her.   
  
He turned on his heel and strode towards the bedroom door. “Stop, Lucius,” Narcissa called, but he ignored her.   
  
Lucius was a step away from the door, from freedom, when he felt the collar constrict around his throat, squeezing his neck so tightly he couldn’t breathe. He clawed desperately at his neck as black dots swam before his eyes, trying futilely to loosen the metal. Lucius was on the verge of blacking out when the crushing pressure finally eased, and he inhaled frantically, gulping oxygen.  
  
“Look at me, Lucius,” ordered Narcissa over the sounds of his noisy panting.   
  
He turned, gingerly massaging his throat, and froze in astonishment.  
  
Narcissa’s eyes were blazing like stars; bright blue light was actually radiating from her irises. Her wings weren’t fluttering now; they were standing straight out, a pale green glow limning the curves of the silver forewings and hindwings. Even her hair was gleaming, the blonde curls glinting like precious gold.   
  
She was so dazzling, so intense, so bright — it almost hurt his eyes to look at her.   
  
“H-h-how?” Lucius stammered, his hands falling limply to his sides, sore throat and collar forgotten.   
  
“Think, Lucius,” Narcissa said softly, and he was mesmerized by the vividness of her cranberry-red lips. “Did you really think these,” she flicked her wings, “were mere  _charms?_ ”   
  
“I – I – y-yes,” he said stupidly, unable to think in the face of her brilliance.   
  
“My wings are real.”   
  
Lucius shook his head. His wife wasn’t making sense. Witches didn’t have  _wings._    
  
Her shining lips parted in a laugh. “They are real, Lucius.  _I_  am a real faerie. My sidhe blood may be diluted, but I still have many of my ancestors’ powers.”   
  
Two words penetrated his clouded brain — ‘sidhe blood’ — and some of his confusion vanished. “You aren’t a pure-blood witch?” he asked sharply.  
  
“Of course I am,” she replied, just as sharply. “All pure-blood witches and wizards are descended from the sidhe; it’s how we got our magic. But fae blood runs more strongly in some families than others.”   
  
Narcissa held her hand out, palm up, and Lucius felt a tug at the leash still hanging from his neck. She flexed her fingers and the leash yanked him forward until he was standing in front of her. “See?”  
  
Lucius glared at her, his grey eyes meeting her still glowing blue eyes, and she sneered. “It’s time for you to learn,  _husband_ , that I won’t put up with your … indiscretions any longer.”   
  
“You don’t have a choice,” he snarled, his earlier anger returning in full force from the way she was treating him. No one told  _Lucius Malfoy_  what to do — especially not his  _wife._    
  
She arched a pale eyebrow at him. “Oh, but I do, Lucius. You’re going to listen to  _me_  now.” Suddenly he felt the platinum around his neck contract again, once more cutting off his ability to breathe. Her eyes and wings glowed more vibrantly as he choked, and this time blue, green, and silver dots clouded his vision. His nails scraped bloody furrows in his skin as he frantically tried to remove the metal circle that was asphyxiating him.   
  
Narcissa didn’t let up until her husband fainted, dropping in a heap at her feet to the stone floor.   
  
She nodded once, satisfied, and then said, “ _Ennervate._ ”   
  
His hands came up to his throat as he woke, once again rubbing his neck as he tried to regain his breath. “What – the – bloody – hell – was – that?” Lucius rasped.   
  
“An example, Lucius. To show you that I don’t need my wand to make you obey me. I can choke you with a thought, or I can drive you mad with the brilliance of my beauty.” She toyed with the diamond pendant around her neck, and his eyes were drawn to the white, gleaming flesh of her breasts. Her skin sparkled like crushed pearls against the emerald silk of her dress, and he suddenly wanted to touch her, to feel that soft, perfect skin under his fingertips.   
  
She nodded again as her husband’s eyes glazed with want as he stared at her; Lucius was reacting just as she’d expected. Show him something new, or something pretty, and he wanted it. He would be enthralled with her sidhe nature for a while, but inevitably a new girl would catch his eye and he would be unfaithful once more.   
  
Narcissa was determined he would never cheat on her again.   
  
She draped herself on their bed carefully, lying on her side to prevent crushing her gossamer wings. “Come here,” she said softly, patting the space beside her. She toned down her glow, decreasing the light that streamed from her hair, her eyes, her skin, and her wings, so that he would be able to think a little more clearly than before.   
  
He came to her like a desperate man, as if she was the only thing that could quench his thirst. After tonight, she would be.   
  
“I’m sorry, Cissa,” he said when he was beside her, kneeling by her legs. “I won’t … stray again.” Lucius looked so sincere with his contrite expression and rain cloud grey eyes that she almost believed him, but they’d had this talk too many times before. He lowered his head and kissed her gently. “Why did you never tell me you were … a faerie … before, darling?”   
  
Narcissa fluttered her wings slowly, and his eyes focused on them as each movement cast green light on the stone wall behind her. “You wouldn’t have believed me, and it wasn’t necessary before. I’ve hid it all my life, Lucius, and I would have kept hiding it if you hadn’t forced me to act.” She reached her hand towards his bare chest and ran her fingers up and down his skin, smiling as he shivered at her touch.   
  
“Witches — and wizards — who can tap into their sidhe powers are rare. In my family, only when a girl is born with blonde hair and blue eyes does she have the ability, and that only happens once every ten generations or so. The Black characteristics — black hair, black eyes — usually breed true; you’ve seen Bellatrix and my cousin.” She moved her hand slowly down his stomach, caressing along the waistband of his trousers. Lucius let out a throaty groan as she alternated between flesh and fabric.   
  
“If you had just been faithful, Lucius, I would never have needed to do this,” Narcissa said, her voice sorrowful.   
  
He was slow in responding, transfixed by the progress of her hand and the motion of her waving wings, but finally asked, “Do what?”   
  
“Now that I’ve revealed my … true nature, you will die if you are untrue to me again.”   
  
“WHAT!” Lucius almost fell off the bed in shock, and Narcissa’s hand whisked from his chest to grab the leash to keep him upright. “ _Tell me you are lying, Narcissa,_ ” he demanded urgently.  
  
“I’m not.” She tightened her grip on the metal leash when he went to move away from her, displaying more unexpected strength, and forced her husband to stay on the bed. “I am a  _leanan sidhe_ — which gives me the power to enslave humans — and tonight I have claimed you as mine. That was the tingle of magic you felt earlier when I put this collar on you.” Narcissa touched the platinum circle locked around his neck and then continued, “I could have done this at any time in our marriage, Lucius. I gave you chance after chance and you didn’t learn.”   
  
Lucius was speechless. His wife thought she could …  _claim_  him? Like a pet or some blasted animal? He’d be damned if he’d let her get away with this; he’d find a way out of this somehow, and then Narcissa would  _pay_  for her audacity.  
  
Narcissa saw her husband’s anger flit across his face, could read his feelings in the darkening of his eyes and the tightening of his lips. She jangled the leash as a reminder, and applied a hint of pressure to his throat again.   
  
He gulped air reflexively as his windpipe narrowed for the third time that night. Lucius reluctantly held up his hands in surrender when his vision started to swim; he had no desire to faint again.   
  
She rewarded him with a kiss, and Lucius swore he tasted the tartness of cranberries on his wife’s lips and tongue. “Think of it this way,” she said, pulling away from him; he mourned momentarily at the loss and was surprised — Narcissa hadn’t affected him so strongly in years. “Keep me happy, and you will be happy in turn. I am not a cruel mistress unless you force me to be such.” She let go of the leash and returned her hand to his chest, stroking the bare skin.   
  
Lucius looked at his wife in wonder when he felt a warm spark, and glanced down to see a line of light glowing on his skin. “You are mine in truth now, Lucius, but you will enjoy it — _if_  you behave.” She lowered her head to his stomach and kissed from his navel to the waistband of his trousers; every touch of her glowing lips sent a flicker of arousal to his groin.  
  
His last conscious thought was that Narcissa’s plan to … claim him had shown cunning worthy of a Slytherin, and he was reminded why he had married her. Back in the day, only Narcissa Black had been good enough for Lucius Malfoy.  
  


* * *

  
  
Later, when he had his arm curled around his wife’s hips, just below the folded wings that were covering her back like a gauzy blanket, Lucius reflected that maybe,  _just maybe_ , being a faerie’s enraptured human wouldn’t be such a bad thing.   
  
Not that he would ever admit it, of course. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written in October 2010.
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr!](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/)


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